


His Apartment, His Safehouse

by beautiful_flowers



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, deadpool-typical speech and violence, slight angst, talks of suicide and depression, talks of the multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 23:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17969849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautiful_flowers/pseuds/beautiful_flowers
Summary: In one universe, Peter considers the place his apartment. In another, Wade considers the place his safehouse. Confusion ensues when Peter, after a tiring class day, meets what appears to be the one and only Deadpool, standing in his apartment, who he knows to most certainly nothing more than a fictional character.





	His Apartment, His Safehouse

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is written for the Spideypool Big Bang, and it's something that I've been meaning to write for a while. Hope ya'll enjoy this fic, as there may be a continuation upcoming when I finally gather the proper motivation. oh, and please see the art of the lovely
> 
>  
> 
> [X3nia](https://x3nia.tumblr.com/post/183142561524/title-his-apartment-his-safehouse-authors)
> 
>  
> 
> as they deserve all the wonderful credit for this work <3

* * *

[X3nia](https://x3nia.tumblr.com/post/183142561524/title-his-apartment-his-safehouse-authors)

In an actual effort to prevent himself from feeling worse than how he actually is, Peter would usually think, that things couldn’t get any worse than his current situation.

  
Of course, life has to suddenly steer him away from that positivity to the dreary depths of the unexpected. Perhaps he should know better than to just try to think positively, especially when there was typical Parker luck in the works 24/7, ensuring things won’t work out for him at least 99.9% of the time that it was astonishing as to how he hasn’t managed to get all homeless and miserable quite yet.

  
Either way, he was already all too thankful that he arrived safely to be in the front of his humble apartment. It had been a long day of classes, and time passing to slow and attempts to keep his eyes peeled open to the lecturer.

He took out his keys to unlock the entrance. Upon doing so, Peter vigorously entered, slammed the door shut, leaned on the door, heaved a deep breath, eyes closed as he gathered his thoughts for just these few moments.

The first thing to do for this early afternoon was an hour’s nap to recharge lost energy from last night. Then, a few episodes of Golden Girls to clear out all the tension and pressure he was subjected to with the finals incoming, and come up with a game plan on how he could proudly enter the college dating scene without fear and worry of sort ( Or, maybe not- He could just study, maintain his grades; that seems to be easier to do even with the pang of loneliness he couldn’t help but feel with how close to desperate he was for a friend- he needs to get his thoughts straight on what exactly he wants- )

With clear affirmation on what to do, he opened his eyes, expecting the apartment to be same as it was, solitude ringing in its walls, not a single soul but Peter in the vicinity, just him, left alone with no one else.

Except, he wasn’t alone.   
  
A man- much larger than Peter- wearing a black and red suit was sprawled in his mousy, worn-down couch. He couldn’t have seen this stranger’s facial features, but he can see the bulge of muscles underneath the leather ( or was it spandex? ) that he wore.   
  
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing at my apartment?” he demanded, swallowing down the slight attraction over the thought of how that bod must be so muscular underneath whatever cosplay gimmick this guy is up to.

“Uhm, I am sure as shit that this is actually _ my  _ safehouse. Cause, I still have the key? Save all my weapons and babies are gone.” The man’s eyes, nothing more than the white slits ( how is he able to do that through his mask? ) narrowed, threateningly over to Peter, unsheathed a blade from his back.

“As much as I’m lovin’ that ya got the complete DVD set of Mr. Rogers, Bob Ross, and Golden Girls- You still trashed my apartment, and got rid of the weapons and replaced it with all this- your stuff.” In normal arguments that he may find himself facing, Peter would have the guts to shout back a defense. But this guy has a- a katana. Heart hammering in his chest in being faced by what he could see was yes,  _ sharp _ katana blade that could splice his neck, he raised both his hands.

“C-calm down, calm down. No need for any violence here- especially when you’re going to do this in a fight where I can’t defend myself.” The walls were thin, so he raised his voice slightly, and for once in his life, Petey sent a silent prayer that this time, his neighbors would hear the most terrifying confrontation that Peter has ever had, and hear the fear that was laced in every word. 

The man came closer, practically brimming with danger stepped closer, while Peter stepped backward. All until Peter’s back hit on the wall, the blade still close to his neck “Well then, twink boy. At least you’ll know the wrath of me, Deadpool, ain’t always about hearing me yapper and yell at all times.” 

Peter widened his eyes. That single name. That was familiar. That was-

“ _ D-Deadpool _ ?” he whispered out loud, almost forgetting his panic, but remaining still in his every effort for his neck not to taste the cold sting of pain that would bloom in his neck if that blade were to touch his neck.

He shook his head to himself, tried blinking hard. It was most certainly him- especially since he has practically boomed in popularity, to the point there were numerous billboards that entertainingly advertised the film with r18 references and rather creative comedy.

“It can’t be.” He murmured, shook his head to himself as much as he could with his neck pulsing close to the sharpened metal.

“You’re not supposed to be real!”

“What do you mean I’m not real?” Deadpool inquired, still holding his blade firmly near the very vulnerable part of his body that would bleed profusely if it were to be slashed.

“A comic book character!” Peter blurted out, as he sees Deadpool glower impatiently. Peter trembled in his place “I swear- Please don’t hurt- I can let you see for yourself if you’d take your katana- blade- sharp thing off my neck! I won’t try to escape at all- I promise-” he vowed to the very dangerous- yet very fictional character before him. He couldn’t be anything but a cosplayer- a Ryan Reynolds copycat, an obsessive fan wanting sorely to be like the fictional mercenary himself. 

There was nothing but silence as the man hummed in thought, moments passing as Peter anticipated his response. Eventually, he dropped the lethal weapon from his neck “Show.”

And he immediately did he show him, pulling up his phone, and played the video of the latest Deadpool trailer.

They were both stunned to silence through the short clip, of the glaringly obvious R-rated material it wasn’t afraid to show in all its glory. As the movie clip ends, Deadpool turned to Peter, his expression unreadable. No words were said until the masked man gave into a dark chuckle.

“Well, and here I was thinking that today won’t be another good evening- aside from getting you to talk, doe eyes.” 

* * *

“So, let me get this straight. You’re… From another dimension?”

“Yep!” He popped the ‘P’ right at the end, as he browsed Peter’s laptop, meticulously using the search bar and opening different tabs as he goes. “Didn’t really find out till’ a few minutes ago tho, baby boy, so forgive me if I used threats an' guns through here, cause Daddy has good reason to be afraid, especially since he’s made a few enemies.”

“I told you, call me Peter.” he frowned, attempting to look over whatever Deadpool’s doing “And can you tell me when are you going to be done there? I still have to continue my thesis-“ 

“Aha!” Deadpool interrupted, grinning wildly “So, I was just able to confirm my suspicions; I am in another, alternate universe- where my own world is just some sort of fictional world created by a bunch of comic book writers! Some of them are actually amazingly shitty tho, the drawings, and when I mean some of them- I mean, how the fuck are those my legs?” He pointed accusingly over the screen, as he turned the laptop to Peter to show an illustration of himself, drawn in comic form, shown to have somewhat disproportionate limbs.

“I swear to god, these are chicken legs!” he laughed and continued on his cackling as he discovered more and more digital media of himself over the computer.

By this point, Peter was certain that this person was not going to leave anytime soon.

* * *

“So, when are you, you know, going back?” Peter inquired, hesitantly, words slow to draw up his words that he spoke to the man that lounged in the sofa that Peter himself should relax on, and not suffer himself over the stuffy, uncomfy desk that made up his study area.

It had been another tiring day, loaded with his professors all too happy to add on to the pressure of passing exams, of attending all classes they can, and more homework and projects to work on.

“Well, Ai-Dee-Kay, really. Cuz’, see this bad boy, sweetie?” he picked up this intricate tube-like device creased with numerous buttons and switches “This is my way out of here, and, without a powerful electric charger, as my own universe has, it has its own way of charging in a slow, slow way. So, yes. I might as well be stuck here for now, if you dun mind mee!” he sang the last sentence, guffawing at the scene of the latest Golden Girls episode he decided to watch.

Peter groaned, sighed, let a palm go over his face. It definitely was going to be torture. Fed up with all the loud laughs, and how he now got an unexpected roommate that won’t pay his rent but still could kill him in an instant, he put on his earphones and crossed his fingers that he could survive this.

* * *

He came home from his classes, opened his apartment door to the sight of Deadpool, wearing a pink apron in the kitchen, with at least ten to thirty plates of large pancakes scattered about the place.

“What the fuck.”

“Hello to you too, sweetums! Sorry for all these messes! I just got hungry and you barely got anything on the fridge.” he apologized sheepishly.

“I know that I didn’t have pancake batter and maple syrup anywhere, so how-”

“Used my own sweet dough to the local supermarket! This place is pretty much like the New York where I’m from. Just, fewer Daredevil-y and Avenger-y around and, altogether, a bit boring if I have to be honest.” 

“You know without our world your world wouldn’t exist? Since the real reason comics exist is because of the imagination of your dear creators, so watch your words-” he spluttered, shaking his head “Anyway, this is out of topic, but are you going to be able to eat all these pancakes?”

“Of course they would! They wouldn’t be going anywhere else!” Deadpool answered cheerily, and just then, Peter’s stomach grumbled. He looked at his own stomach in sheer betrayal.

Deadpool blankly stared at Peter, and while Peter couldn’t see most of the facial expressions, he could positively feel that he is giving him a shit-eating, smug grin. “Hmm, guess my Canadian-themed cooking couldn’t even be resisted by ya, Petey-pie?”   
  


“I am not hungry! I just, like, ate an apple earlier!” he staggered in his denial, looking to turn away “I’m going to my bedroom-”

“Nuh-uh, young man! You are going to eat all these damn fucking pancakes with me if it’s the last thing I do!” From those words alone, it established playful bickering, which ended with Deadpool carrying Peter from his shoulder and both of them convulsing in laughter at how utterly ridiculous this all was.

“In the end, Peter really couldn’t help but think, about how this isn’t all bad, that perhaps, housing a homicidal mercenary with him wouldn’t be all that bad.

* * *

“Hey, Peter, wanna hang out with us tonight?” He looked up to see three people he recognized from their shared chemistry class. They first met when they were assigned to a group project, and that was the time when Peter’s somewhat awkward approach worked and got himself welcomed to their group even with the sheer nervousness he faced when it comes to interaction to others.

“Ehrm, uh, I would, would have wanted to come but-" Peter looked at the ground, shame-faced "I have lots of studying to do, and I really can't afford to slack off-"

"Say no more, Pete. We all know you're the academic at heart. We'll see you around then?" The group promptly left, and Peter bit his lip. That was a missed opportunity. He took out his phone, texted.

_ Peter: You good on being alone for a while? _

**Dudepeel: Awww, you gonna leave little ol' me a bit more in your house? Peteeeeyyyyy, don't leave meeee.**

_ Peter:... I'm not gonna even ask why you have that name, but I just want to hang out with friends _

**Dudepeel: Coolios. I'm fine. Gotta have a social life, eh? I'll leave you to it!**

Rolling his eyes at those playful responses, perhaps, he can finally make time for those friends of his. Putting away his phone, he began on a sprint, to the direction where the small group has gone.

"Guys, I think I'm making this an exception-" he had tried to say, as he spotted the group, sporting an excited grin

"-useless nobody, aside from his wealth of knowledge." One person rolled his eyes, giggling alongside his friends. He cocked his neck at this. What could they possibly be talking about?

"... Yeah, he saved our asses on that group project, but he's no fun to hang out at all. How he acted to our invitation just is proof of it!"

...Was that how they thought of him? Someone that helped them improve their grades, using his intellect as nothing more than for their own gain and genuinely finding him not to be of good company.

He sighed, as he found himself walking away from them, that didn't seem to have noticed his approach. Took out his phone once again, texted.

_ Peter: Nvm, I'm coming home. _

* * *

“I would have thought you’d have gotten bored of being here, all the time, you know.” Peter couldn’t help but mention, after the fact that Deadpool has been here for the past week, with still no working dimension teleporter due to how long the cooldown system of it was.

“I asked around my friends-” he paused. Do they even count as friends anymore after all they said about him when they thought he wasn’t in range to hear their words? “Yeah, my friends in uni about what they may know about you, but they don’t seem to really know aside from that, you know, you take assassination missions from both good and bad sides, a chaotic neutral kinda feel. Aren’t you, you know, getting restless, ‘Pool?” He asked, and Deadpool was uncharacteristically quiet at this question, even with the background of this time, an episode of the calming voice of Bob Ross. 

For a moment, Peter would have thought that he would refuse to answer such a question until he heard a single word from him “Wade.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Wade. I think we’re way past on alias terms, Peter.” Wade said as he grabbed the remote to pause the television, refusing to look directly at Peter.

“It’s just- I mean, I’m not really doing this well with this heart-to-heart kinda shit, but somewhat, all the time I’ve had this week really is somewhat quieting the usual urge to, you know, shot the shit out of fuckers that kill the innocent, and I really do appreciate all the stuff you’d have done for me these past few days. So, yeah, I guess I’m growing to like being your friend, Petey-pie.”

Peter gulped, could feel his own heartwarming to that, and he couldn’t help but flush bashfully over to Wade’s own words.

“You know, I think I feel the same. I don’t mind having you around too, Wade.”

* * *

It was like that conversation was something that broke the invisible barriers they held up against each other, as both of them grew accustomed to social interactions that involved in confiding against negativity. Still, Peter held all his fears, his doubts, his worries, too anxious to even begin to share all the complexities of his life and choosing to speak more about his passions that he had always been timid to share with anybody else. It was nice, to have someone to talk to about numerous topics that he usually kept as the knowledge that he couldn’t talk much to anyone else.

So for Wade to actually follow through, and understand these concepts that he spoke of despite the complicated lexical choices that he utilized, Wade turned back to respond with his surprisingly vast knowledge of the subject, completely attentive to any response that Peter would throw back at him.

Perhaps, he thought, they had reached the closest they could ever be in this relationship- which was strictly, and nothing more than  _ friendship _ , contrary to Wade’s teasing that they work as a perfect couple who lives together in the same home and apartment. Yet, there was one fine afternoon where he was walking home as per usual, opening the door, and facing someone… Who does not look like what Wade usually tends to show

Gone was the black and red leather that Wade kept himself covered in, despite it having a scent of death and old food, and was replaced with what appeared to be a man who wore a large black hoodie, hands over to the pockets, barely showing any skin save for the hint of skin from his face.

He was rather bewildered at this sight, eyes widened until the realization dawned upon him

“...Wade?”

“It’s me- in the flesh- I mean, not much flesh but- you get the point.” he stepped closer, and being closer to Wade himself, he could see how tense, nervous this man was. This man, that he has known to have killed numerous scums with his blade and weapons, seen his share of bloodlust and war and all the things that Peter himself couldn’t imagine facing. Here lies a man who had gone so much, yet was… Anxious at the thought of showing his face.

“I-I know that my face is an ugly- pizza face, whatever really, but I just want you to know that I fucking trust you, with all the shit I’ve been through. I- I can understand if you want to kick me out because I’m a disgusting piece of ass-” 

Peter flew to his arms, laughing, and his arms could barely touch from all the way to Wade’s back. He could feel the thick muscles underneath all clothing, how human, how vulnerable Wade was in this form. A few minutes into the hug, he looked at Wade, smiled.

“Now why would I want to kick you out? You’ve been with me for a week, and- you’re really of good company, Wade.” He smiled, as he stepped closer, looking at Wade straight in the face.

“I want you to stay. I don’t mind anything about you, at all, and I swear by that. You’re my friend, and friends should support each other, right?” Wade trembled, and in engulfed Peter in a tight, squeezing hug, and while Peter himself couldn’t feel it, he knows, knows that Wade was crying, letting out silent sobs. He spoke no more, save for rubbing the larger man’s back, being nothing but of comfort to him.

* * *

“... My Uncle died because it’s my fault.” Peter couldn’t help but say, in that one night, as they sat together in the sofa; the soothing sound of Bob Ross beating the devil out of his brush actually soothing his senses. Maybe he shouldn’t have spoken too soon of something that he had kept bottled inside him for so long, for almost half a decade. But, Wade had trusted him, enough to share stuff that Peter would have never thought he’d be willing to share, especially of Wade’s face- It was a tremendous bout of trust that he knew that it was own turn to share of the incident that had haunted his life for many years.

“I- I wanted to get stronger, so I started going onto underground training rings since we couldn’t afford any kind of membership to the gym. My Uncle found out, I shouted at him, was out late after dark… And he got shot, Wade. Shot by a man who wanted to steal his wallet.” his words faltered at those last few words, hand clenched.

“It keeps replaying on my head, back then, how I could have just, stayed home and maybe if I did, Uncle Ben would still be there. Maybe he would still be alive if I just thought that maybe, it was better to settle with what I had rather than risk losing him-”

“Baby boy-”

“-Maybe, maybe then Aunt May wouldn’t be sad all the time, and she wouldn’t have had to face the loss of the love of her life, and maybe I would have gotten more friends-”

“Pete-”

“get Aunt May to have that same wide smile that she had whenever she and Uncle Ben were together-” 

“Peter!”

Wade had to shout, his large hands clasped around his shoulder. Peter stopped ranting, and only then did he realize that he had been trembling, near hyperventilating as tears traced down both his cheeks.

“Oh, Petey.” Wade slid his hands down from his shoulders, as his arms wrapped around Peter, resting his head onto Wade’s chest.

“Out of all people, and you should not be regretting anything. Believe me, I know about regrets, and thinking about it- overthinking it- it’s never the healthiest thing to do.” Peter shook his head best he can.

“But if-“

“Peter, you’re going to destroy yourself over thinking of something that had already been done, that has already passed. And, how could you have possibly known that your Uncle would encounter that kind of mugger?”

“Wade-“

“No chance. You are the luckiest, smartest and cutest little thing that I’ve seen all throughout my stay here, so don’t you dare put yourself down because of all of that has happened, okay?” Peter refused to catch Wade’s eyes, quiet as he sat close to Wade, nuzzling his chest, inhaling and exhaling as he tried to fight tears.

“Wade, will you sleep with me?” He asked quietly, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room, even for a short while. He felt Wade stiffen suddenly tense.

“Like, sleep as in, literal sleeping, or sleep that-“

“Sleep as in sleeping. It’s just..” he bit his lip, exhaling a shaky sigh. “I don’t want to feel alone tonight.” 

“...Okay. That’s totes fine.”

* * *

That night, they slept close together, holding each other in their arms. It was just so surprising to Peter to find, how nice it was, to sleep next to another person, how comforting it was to feel that he was not alone, that he was close by to someone who he can give his reliance and trust to without fear of ignorance or mockery.

Needless to say, it was the best sleep that Peter had ever had, even if he was left alone in the bed in the morning.

It was for a good reason though, as Wade was once again making pancakes for breakfast, with the most genuine maple syrup he can find. Peter rolled his eyes that morning, felt better, as if last night has been the perfect catharsis as the burden of his Uncle’s death was not only kept to himself. 

It was nothing to complain about, as even though Wade didn’t speak of their cuddling last night, acting in the normal, Deadpool-y way as per usual in the day, Wade, surprisingly, was more than happy to snuggle close to Peter the next night. No words were spoken, but that night, as Peter fell into unconsciousness, he couldn’t help but just know, that his days had gone astronomically different from the day.

_ I hope he never leaves _ He can’t help but think before he fell into a blissful, satisfied sleep.

* * *

He shouldn’t look forward to it. This was simply a temporary arrangement that won’t last as soon as Wade’s teleporter gets charged up to be able to send him back home. Those thoughts were often the negativity that he quickly swept up under the rug, ignoring such a notion, especially when he’s grown so accustomed to seeing the man on a day to day basis.

With Wade, every day seems to bring something new, to break the monotonous life that he didn’t know he survived in, especially when Wade tends to change up the songs that he would sing every morning when he proceeds to make breakfast or dinner for them.

He shouldn’t worry at all.

And then, the day that he thought would never come just came. It was a quiet morning, after another day of snuggling close to each other at night, sharing the same bed. Perhaps he would have expected to hear Wade singing, but it was… strange, to not hear him sing at all. Yawning, and stretching his arms as he forced his body up, he got up from the bedroom, eyes widening when he saw Wade, in his full Deadpool suit.

“...Wade?” He inquired, furrowing his brows. The man turned to him, his eyes widening ( and no, Peter still has no idea how he does that. ) at the sight of Peter “Oh, Baby boy.” Wade can’t help but say, seeming to be at loss of words.

Peter tilted his head in response pursing his lips “Is everything alright?” He inquired further, as he could not help the concern he suddenly feels at this.

“No, nothing, nothing, it’s just…” Again, Wade was trailing off, unable to finish sentences. Peter watched him walk across the living room, and pick up the floor, with what appears to be the teleporter, seemingly full of charge, ready to open up a portal.

“Oh.” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, that snapped him out of that daydream that maybe, Wade would stay with him, continue on giving light to his dim and dreary existence. It was too good to be true. Wade had been too good to be true.

Lower lip trembling, he approached, face crestfallen as his mind wrapped around the fact that Wade, who has proven himself to be the closest friend Peter had ever met within these past few weeks, was leaving him alone once more, back to the same life before he met this mercenary.

“...Do you really have to go?” Peter dared ask, eyes pleading. Wade heaved a sigh, took off his mask, fully showing Peter his own expression “I have to, Petey. I don’t want to end up stuck here for life. You know I don’t belong here, especially since I’ll be unfairly OP against the basic military of this world. It’s too easy to abuse to the system, and I don’t want to tempt myself with that.” Wade turned back, as he flicked a few buttons of the teleporter, and soon enough, a portal big enough to fit Wade had appeared in the middle of the apartment.

Body trembling, as his eyes slowly blurred with tears, he ran towards Wade, faced him, and pulled their lips close to a kiss.

It was wonderful, for the first ever kiss he’d ever had with a man. It was everything he imagined; warm, comforting, close, and his arms slowly crept their way around Wade’s neck, his feet staying on the tip of his toes.

In response, there was a squeak of surprise at this surprise gesture, but he slowly relaxed, choosing to kiss back, and it was all  _ bliss  _ as their mouths both opened mid-kiss.

It was all too short, as Wade retracted, face sorrowful as he let their heads rest against each other “Thanks for the time, Petey. I… I would, but I can’t and-“

“I know. I can’t stop you.” He forced a smile. He has to smile. There was nothing he could do with Wade leaving.

As Wade slid away from Peter’s arms, approached the portal, with full Deadpool gear, he gave one last smile at him, and as soon as his whole body had entered, he was gone.

Peter sank to the floor on his knees, as the tears willingly fell.

Again, he was alone.

* * *

Peter woke up early this morning. He washed, dressed, and readied breakfast. It was leftover pancakes. He tried not to think how it was the last thing that Wade ever left in this dimension

He went to study as much as he can before class, went out of his apartment for class and came back home.

He tried not to think about how cold his bed is as soon as he settled down for the night.

* * *

Peter woke up early this next morning. He washed, dressed, and readied breakfast. It was the last of the leftover pancakes. He tried not to think about how he’ll miss tasting Wade-cooked pancakes.

He went to study as much as he can before class, went out of his apartment for class and came back home.

He tried not to think about Wade’s wonderful lips, and the last parting kiss they shared.

* * *

Peter woke up early this third morning without Wade. He washed, dressed, and readied breakfast. It was the cup of noodles he bought from the nearest grocery store.

He went to study the whole day and never bothered leaving home. There were a couple of texts from Aunt May, but he didn’t bother looking at them, too ashamed to even talk to her.

He wasn’t able to sleep at night, as he lamented his regret of never jumping in the opportunity to come with Wade. 

* * *

By the next week, he had slowly stopped attending classes, paying attention, not doing as much as he did. There were more worried text and calls from Aunt May, as she had heard his hoarse voice after one night of crying, missing the one that got away, too limp to do anything, too stuck in his thoughts to even think about eating.

Wade was never coming back, and he was stuck in his morose, unmoving life that he just knew wasn’t for him. He was prepared to slowly wither and die, knowing full well that there was simply no use to just, continue on doing what he did, especially when he had rationalized that this life didn’t bring him of any happiness.

And then, that was when a portal appeared in his room.

Peter stared, mouth open.

Wade was back. He was the same as ever, wearing the same Deadpool suit, without his mask on. A look of hesitance painted his face.

“I know, I know, It’s shitty I left you-“

Peter didn’t even give him time to finish before he ran up to Wade, smashed their lips together, muffling any words as they sank into the familiar comfort of each other.

“Never,” he gasped, as their lips separated “Never, do that again.” Peter hissed. Wade chuckled “Anything for you, Petey, anything.”

“And,” Peter started, eyes looking straight to Wade in determination “I want to come with you. I’ve thought about it for weeks and I want to come with you, and always be with you.” Wade was stunned to silence, before a smile spread in his face, nodding.

“Of course, I thought as much. So, yes- yes I’ll be glad to have you as my sexy ass partner in dimension travel. Just be prepared for adventure, Baby boy, as things get weirder in the dimensions I plan on taking you.”

Rolling his eyes at Wade, as he shakes his head because that was so not going to be having that as an official title, they were off to packing all that he can in one backpack.

And after packing all he can, leaving nothing but a vague note of where he went for Aunt May, and to maybe, his professors as well, he was off, on a new adventure, that was much more exciting than what his dimension could ever offer, and the most unexpected boyfriend he’d never thought he’d ever had.

 


End file.
